


Conditions of Release

by Calico



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Adrenaline, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingering, First Time, M/M, Missing Scene, Power Dynamics, Restraints, Train Tracks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4638027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico/pseuds/Calico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Eggsy pulled furtively at the ropes binding his arms and legs to the metal tracks, as if he’d forgotten the last five minutes already. God, though. Before he’d felt trapped, terrified; now it was more like he was… at Harry’s mercy.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conditions of Release

To say that Eggsy had been shit scared was the understatement of a fucking lifetime—but in the moment between seeing Harry standing there and Harry opening his perfect mouth and saying "Congratulations," Eggsy’s dick went from softer than it had ever been in his life - thanks a lot, soul-curdling fear of an oncoming train - to half hard and filling rapidly. 

Call it adrenaline. Call it relief at being alive. Eggsy called it like _really_ fucking embarrassing. 

"Bloody well done," Harry said.

Fuck—not just getting wood but keeping it, pitching a massive tent in his best black baggy jeans, the mound of it dominating his eye-line as he gazed up at Harry in part-relief part-mortification. 

Harry didn't seem to notice, which only went and proved he had the best manners in the world. It was _right_ in fucking front of him.

Eggsy pulled furtively at the ropes binding his arms and legs to the metal tracks, as if he’d forgotten the last five minutes already. God, though. Before he’d felt trapped, terrified; now it was more like he was… at Harry’s mercy.

Eggsy groped for a normal response in this situation. "How’d the others do?"

"Roxy passed with flying colours."

Good. That was… good. 

"Charlie’s up next. Want to watch?"

Eggsy swallowed, gave the bonds another tug. Nothing doing - except succeeding in raking his cock against the front of his jeans. 

"Yeah, alright," Eggsy said, aiming for not bothered, and then Harry was advancing on him, step by measured step, and Eggsy’s mouth dried up completely. 

He gave another half-hearted little struggle as if _now_ he might magically free himself. Anything instead of having to watch as Harry drew closer.

He had a fucking knife. That shouldn't be hot. Everything was hot right now. God. Fuck!

"Are you quite all right?" Harry asked, mild, though his eyes had a flinty darkness to them as he stared down at Eggsy, sharp as fuck. There was no _way_ he hadn’t seen.

"Mm?" Eggsy said, and he could feel his eyes were wide but he could not look chill right now, there was just no fucking way. His heart was slamming away in his chest like vintage drum n’ bass, he could count the buttons on his fly with his hard dick, his legs were _spread_ , for fuck’s sake, and as Harry walked towards him he swore he could feel his thighs start to sweat. 

Harry came right up to the rails, looming over him, and then just—stood there. 

_Looking_ at him.

Fuck.

Eggsy couldn’t help but squirm a bit, as the weight of Harry’s regard stroked over him like a possessive palm. Everything was aching: wrists, ankles; cock, balls; jaw as he gritted it; eyelids as he stared up at him, unwilling and unable to blink.

"Forgive me," Harry drawled, and now that was what Eggsy privately thought of as Harry’s _best_ voice, like the purring engine of a big, expensive car, "you don't _look_ all right."

"Uh," Eggsy managed, brilliantly.

"Perhaps it will help if I cut you free…"

Harry stepped over between the train tracks to Eggsy’s right, his shoes making soft crunches in the dark gravel, and then he sank smoothly to his knees as if he did it every day, and that was showing off, surely. And Jesus: how could a movement that Eggsy one hundred per cent thought of as submissive look so fucking _dominant_ when Harry did it? Maybe because it looked like the precursor gesture to crawling on top of someone, pinning them down. Which Harry could do right now, to him. Except he wouldn’t need to pin Eggsy down, because Eggsy was already pinned. Trapped, helpless. At Harry’s mercy.

_Uhhh._

Harry’s knees were planted on the gravel between the tracks by Eggsy’s hip. This close, there was no fucking way Harry couldn’t see the bulge of his hard-on. Eggsy would’ve been proud of how massive it looked if he hadn’t been focused on willing the fake ground to swallow him up again. And yet Harry’s face suggested he was innocent of the whole situation. 

"Keep still," Harry said, his voice so much closer now Eggsy felt like he could hear the individual components in it, the breath and the burr of sound, every splintered undertone.

Eggsy gave a semi-hysterical half-laugh half-wheeze. "I’m not exactly going anywhere."

"No," Harry said, and his eyes were on Eggsy’s face but Eggsy felt like every inch of him was being observed. "No, you’re not, are you?"

Something about Harry’s positioning seemed deliberate - hell, it all seemed deliberate - but it was as if he had his back to something. As if his broad - _so broad!_ \- shoulders were blocking them off from prying eyes. The inevitable hidden camera, maybe. The two-way mirror that Eggsy would bet his left leg Merlin was sitting behind, laughing his arse off. The rest of the team.

Harry reached for the rope knotted around Eggsy’s right leg, and Eggsy promptly forgot anyone else in the world existed. 

"Oh dear," Harry said, and he was _tugging up the ankle of Eggsy’s jeans_ , revealing the skin there in one quick motion. "The rope’s bitten in, hasn’t it?"

Not fucking innocent. _Not. Fucking. Innocent_.

"Uh huh," Eggsy said, and then bit the inside of his cheek hard as Harry traced over the mark on his ankle with the pads of two fingers. He felt himself blush, and knew it was written all over his face, whatever _it_ was: this fucked up electricity zipping through him, suffusing his skin with an agonising soft heat.

"Very good," Harry said. "To struggle so much and yet, as promised, you managed to… keep your mouth shut." 

Eggsy’s own words sounded different in Harry’s voice, escalated to lofty new heights of significance. 

Eggsy cleared his throat. "Well yeah," he said gruffly. "I’ve never grassed anyone up. Not about to start with you."

"Much appreciated," Harry said, running his fingernail along the edge of the tight rope, making Eggsy shudder. And then, slowly, Harry’s hand closed around it - and Eggsy had never been a fucking waif, thanks, and was built like a brick shithouse these days, but Harry’s fingers wrapping firmly around his bare ankle made him acutely conscious that Harry was much, much bigger.

Eggsy’s eyes slammed closed and his cock flexed, and he tugged instinctively at all four ropes again - and then regretted that because the restraint of it sent viciously erotic messages to all the weak parts of his brain, the parts that wanted _everything_ to happen, and his hips twitched in needy reflex, outside of his control. In the darkness behind his eyes, Harry’s hand seemed to burn hotter on his skin. 

Eggsy dragged in a slow breath, and stilled himself with difficulty. He had no idea what he fucking looked like—no, that wasn’t honest, was it. He had no idea what _else_ he looked like, apart from a cockhungry twink squirming in greedy frustration, all tied up. His dick started to ache, and his hips twitched again. 

"Eggsy," Harry said slowly, and now his voice was pure velvet, "I’m going to cut the rope, now. And if you can, I want you to stay _quite_ still." 

Eggsy managed a jerky nod, keeping his eyes closed, but Harry was squeezing his ankle for emphasis, and the power in that grip was making every untameable part of Eggsy’s libido sit up and pant. He felt like his whole body was pulsing, and Harry hadn’t even acknowledged his interest.

"Good boy," Harry said, and Eggsy bit down on his lower lip, turning his face to the side as it grew warm. _That_ was acknowledgment, wasn’t it? Normal people didn’t talk to each other like that. Another understatement.

Under his cheek, the metal train track felt cool and unyielding. 

He felt Harry make a couple of small, efficient movements, and then the rope slithered away from his ankle. And that should be his cue to stretch, to roll his foot from side to side, to close his damn legs—but he stayed put, not moving a muscle, hoping to fuck that he wasn’t misinterpreting this - and then almost groaned in relief when Harry said again, softer, "Oh, _good_ boy."

Harry leaned over and cut the bond on his other ankle as well, and Eggsy bit down harder and tried to ignore the flood of self-preservation messages telling him put his feet together, to bend his knees, to shift in whatever way was necessary to hide the bulge of his cock and make his thighs less invitingly _open_. But Harry had told him to stay still, and he—he could do this for Harry. If Harry wanted him to stay in this position, he was gonna fucking do it.

Harry leant back and there was a pause, long enough that Eggsy was swept with a sudden paranoia that someone else was approaching - or that Harry had lost interest in tormenting him. He opened his eyes, and his breath stuttered in his dry mouth. They were still quite alone, and it was apparent that Harry had _not_ lost interest. 

Harry was still kneeling, sitting back on his heels, looking down at Eggsy. The knife was in his right hand, resting on his thigh, the blade glinting. He looked… ravenous. 

"Adrenaline is an interesting thing," Harry said, his smooth matter-of-fact voice at odds with the intensity rolling off him. "Once activated by a threat, the limbic system readies the body for action. Rallies the catecholamines, gets the pupils wide and the heart pumping. The so-called fight-or-flight response."

If Harry was about to explain the charge between them away on fucking biology, Eggsy was gonna fucking lose it. 

Harry saw his expression, and gave him a slow smile. "Which I don’t think applies here," he said, and then seemed to reconsider. "Or if it does," he mused, "perhaps you have perceived me as a threat for a very long time."

Eggsy had had enough lessons in tactical diplomacy by now to know that the right thing to do here was to reply, _Perhaps_ , or say something else that matched Harry’s non-committal tone, but finding words in his brain right now felt like trying to sculpt with warm treacle. 

He closed his eyes for a moment; when he opened them again, Harry’s smile had gone.

Eggsy had a sudden distinct feeling he was about to be eaten alive.

"Which wouldn’t be wholly inaccurate," Harry said, and reached down again; his eyes were sultry and his touch deliberate as he ran his left hand up Eggsy’s leg, slowly, from ankle to inner thigh; and that, _that_ was acknowledgement, fuck yes. Eggsy sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth, pounding relief that something was happening warring with frustration that something wasn’t happening _faster_. 

"Harry," he whispered, as Harry’s hand bypassed his crotch and slid onwards, over the ridge of his hip and up the flat plane of his stomach; making the transition from jeans to t-shirt with no reduction in pressure, dragging the fabric into folds against Eggsy’s suddenly over-sensitised skin, "—um."

Eggsy broke off because Harry’s gaze was back on his face, eyebrows slightly raised, as if daring Eggsy to speak; meanwhile his hand had reached Eggsy’s shoulder, sliding from t-shirt onto jacket, the noise of his sweeping fingers softening from a rasp to something more like a swish, loud in Eggsy’s ears. 

"You look like I’m hurting you," Harry murmured, with none of the concern that a normal person might show if they chose to use those words. 

Eggsy had a dizzy feeling of trying to imagine himself from above, through Harry’s eyes. Legs rigid to keep position, fists tied, hips practically vibrating and who the fuck knew what his face was doing right now? "I—you’re not," was all he could think to say. 

"No," Harry agreed, and in one deft movement he tugged Eggsy’s sleeve down from under the bond, baring his wrist, so the rope now lay taut against sensitive, friction-burned skin. 

Harry traced the rigid lines of the rope with his fingertips, and Eggsy shivered, gritting his teeth, fingers flexing helplessly. 

"Look at you," Harry said, stroking the skin of his wrist. "You know, Merlin and Arthur are due to arrive with Charlie soon."

That made Eggsy go still. "What," he said, eyes searching Harry’s face for reassurance, "how soon?"

"A few minutes," Harry said, fingers stroking up to draw circles on Eggsy’s palm, then melting away again when Eggsy tried to grab them. "So we don’t have much time. I want to do something for you, though." 

_Do something for you_. That sounded… good? 

"I can’t help but think it would be…" Harry’s touch trailed over his wrist again, a light scrape with blunt fingernails that made Eggsy shiver harder. "…cruel, otherwise, to leave you in this state."

"Y-yes," Eggsy said, voice coming haltingly as it began to sink into his brain what Harry might mean. 

"But the question then is: should I untie you first, or would you prefer it like this?"

What Harry _definitely_ meant. Jesus. "…Yes," Eggsy said again, unable to find any other word in his head except _yes_ and _Harry_ and _please_. 

Dark eyes flashed with warm triumph. "I rather thought so," Harry murmured, and then he closed his hand on Eggsy’s wrist and pulled it firmly against the rope, as if testing the strength of the bonds. 

Eggsy gasped, fingers curling into fists, cock throbbing as the reality of having asked Harry to _keep him restrained_ flooded through him.

"Mm," Harry said, and then he put down the knife and lifted the hand to Eggsy’s face instead, pinched his chin in finger and thumb and turned his face towards Harry. "If you want me to stop," he said softly, "say so."

Staring into Harry’s eyes with Harry’s fingers on his face, Eggsy felt like he was falling, plummeting; hissing through heated space and struggling to catch his breath. 

He managed a mute shake of his head. 

"Good," Harry said, and changed the pressure of his grip. It took Eggsy a moment to get that Harry wanted him to open his mouth; as soon as he realised and relaxed his jaw, Harry pushed two fingers into his mouth, and Eggsy closed his eyes and groaned around them, the intrusion igniting a current of heat from his tongue to his cock.

Harry clasped his other hand, threading his fingers between Eggsy’s and crushing it down against the rail, and Eggsy curved up against empty air.

"Look at you," Harry said again, as Eggsy ran his tongue all over Harry’s fingers and sucked, hard, lapping up the salt and dust of his hands. The pounding heat of adrenaline was sharpening and sweetening, transmuting into a more straight-forward urgency: the need to do whatever Harry wanted, and hope like hell that what he wanted was to keep touching him. "Very lovely indeed. So… responsive."

Eggsy sucked harder, feeling his cheeks hollow against Harry’s thick fingers, stroking with his tongue and starting to bob his head. 

Harry made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a hum of approval, and eased his fingers back out, and then he was reaching down, tugging open his belt, unbuttoning the flies on Eggsy’s baggy jeans, and fucking hell, it all crystallised at once: if Harry touched his cock he was gonna come. He _was_ , he couldn't not, although maybe that was what Harry wanted—and then Harry slid his hand into his boxers and didn't even brush against his cock, so that wasn't what he wanted, apparently, no. What _Harry_ wanted was to reach down between Eggsy's thighs and rub his wet fingertips firmly against his hole. 

Eggsy shuddered out a gasp. It was impossible to keep still, now, his feet finding mindless purchase against the rail they’d been tied to; at least it was something to brace against as he shifted, needy, bearing down on Harry's fingers, trying to coax them inside. 

Harry's lips twitched. "Oh, even better," he said, and stilled his hand. 

Eggsy felt his cheeks get hotter - he was probably crimson by now - but he couldn't stop himself from rocking against Harry's fingers, craning his hips in an effort to nudge against them firmly enough to breach. His thoughts were a mess, sparks flying away from a sizzling molten core. The soft pressure was driving him mental, making him want to thrash and arch his back, to drive down hard and force Harry to impale him, but he couldn’t— _quite_ —get the leverage.

He pulled hard on his wrists and turned his head from side to side against the rail, mouth opening to huff out helpless noises of protest. 

"Ask nicely," Harry said, his voice soft, and Eggsy fucking didn't need to be told twice. 

" _Please_ ," he gasped, Harry's instruction giving him a route out of the chaotic hot fog of his thoughts, a lifeline to cling to - if he could only ask nicely enough - "please, Harry, please..."

"Of course," Harry said, and pushed at him steadily, forcing his wet fingertips a fraction inside and then, as Eggsy groaned, a fraction more. "Is that better?"

Eggsy nodded, his brain wordless against the burning tight perfect stretch, and shifted his hips in desperate mute encouragement. 

"More?"

More nodding, and then he gave a plaintive soft moan as the pressure melted away again and Harry brought his hand back to Eggsy’s mouth. 

"Wetter, then," Harry said, and Eggsy sucked his fingers frantically, shivering at the taste of his own sweat. So fucking _filthy_ , and for Harry to be doing this to him—his brain was at risk of shorting out completely if he thought about it in too much detail. 

"Good boy," Harry murmured, sliding his fingers back out of Eggsy’s mouth and shifting his hand between his legs again. He pushed Eggsy’s baggy jeans further down, and Eggsy shivered at the cool press of the railway sleeper against his bare arse, the contrast of Harry’s fingers brushing hot against exquisitely sensitive skin. "See if you can take a little more this time."

"Yeah," Eggsy said, nudging his hips towards Harry's hand, and then two fingers were breaching him in a slow, firm push and he yowled, pleasure and need dovetailing with a clean sharp edge of pain. 

"Oh, you _can_ ," Harry said, sliding his fingers slowly in to the second knuckle and then rocking gently, opening him up.

"God," Eggsy panted, whipping his head from side to side and straining at his ropes, heat blazing out from the tight pulsing stretch of his hole, "God, Harry, please..."

"Oh, yes, Eggsy," Harry said softly, a burr in his voice almost too low to hear, the resonance of it prickling over Eggsy’s overheated skin and forcing his eyes open. "If this is how you cope with two fingers," Harry said, as Eggsy stared blearily up at him, "I can only imagine how you'd look if I fucked you."

"Fuck me," Eggsy echoed, and a cool light blazed in Harry’s eyes, which was all the warning Eggsy got before Harry shoved his fingers deeper, the thickness of his knuckles forcing inside all at once. " _Fuck_!"

With his other hand, Harry raised a finger to his lips, shaking his head. The fact that they were technically in public slammed into Eggsy all at once; he clenched his teeth in an effort to stem the rising need to cry out. 

"Better," Harry said, the approval in his voice washing through Eggsy like warm honey, and Eggsy felt something inside himself let go: this was all there was. Rivulets of heat running through him in semi-random formations; ropes around his wrists and hard train tracks underneath; and Harry, kneeling over him, his face like a lazy predator, his hand working relentlessly between Eggsy’s thighs. Eggsy could do this, could lose himself in this, moving on Harry's fingers and biting back moans. He might not even make it to orgasm - although his cock felt like hot iron and his balls were already drawing up - but there was nothing else for him in the universe except this perfect fucked-up pleasure, right here, right now. 

He started to find a rhythm, fucking himself almost languidly on Harry’s fingers, trying to take them deeper every time. 

" _There_ you are," Harry murmured, that honey-rich approval again. "I don’t even have to move. I can just hold still while you… writhe… for me… I wish you could see yourself."

"God," Eggsy said, barely shaping the word through parted lips.

"If we had time… oh, the things I’d do to you." 

Eggsy bit his lip, nodding in feverish agreement.

"I’d finger you like this, I’d loosen you up nice and slow, and then—I’d stop," Harry said, almost conversational, and then he crooked his fingers deep in Eggsy’s arse and sent bolts of light through his brain.

" _God_ —"

"I'd kneel over you and have you open your mouth for me…"

Harry’s free hand cupped his jaw for a moment, a broad heavy warning heat. Then Harry released him to trace the shape of Eggsy’s lips with a single fingertip instead, and Eggsy opened his mouth and tried to lick it, blindly chasing the light touch, trying to suck Harry’s finger into his mouth and panting when Harry evaded him. 

"…See how much you could take with your hands tied…"

"Jesus," Eggsy blurted, and Harry frowned a little at that. 

"If you can’t be quiet," he said, and reached down and picked up the knife, holding the handle lengthways at Eggsy’s lips. "Open."

Breath coming shallow and rapid, Eggsy opened his mouth; Harry pushed the handle of the knife between his teeth and Eggsy’s cock twitched hard. 

"Bite."

The handle was firm cool plastic, tasting almost neutral with the faintest traces of salt. The thickness of it felt obscene, biting down on it, but it helped; it gave him something to focus on, running his tongue over it and panting around it as Harry pumped his fingers in and out of his arse, and now the currents of heat were running together: getting off became suddenly a lot more likely. 

"You like having your mouth filled," Harry told him, his tone soft and gleaming as silk. 

Shakily, Eggsy managed another nod.

"So I’d kneel over you and push my cock into your mouth," Harry said, and Eggsy gasped as a third finger pressed in alongside the others, the stretch going taut and borderline painful again, almost tipping him over the edge. "I’d enjoy that. Knowing you were spreading your legs for me, like this, stretched and ready, aching for it... but trying to make your mouth good for me as well... accepting that if I wanted to come down your throat you would just have to wait. To be. Properly. Fucked."

Three fingers twisted in as deep as they would go and stayed there, and Eggsy bit down hard on the knife handle and moaned around it, whole body trying to curl up against Harry's fingers, spreading his legs as much as he could and tipping his hips against Harry's hand. 

"Oh you're so good," Harry said, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the sensitive skin behind Eggsy’s balls, and Eggsy arched and cursed, squirming, _wanting_ , so close. Anything, please, Harry, fuck him, use him: _anything_. 

"I could do it right here, couldn't I? Wouldn't even have to untie you. Just strip you off and push your knees against your chest—you're so far gone you wouldn't even ask me to stop if the others arrived, isn't that right?"

Eggsy tried and failed to imagine a situation bad enough that he'd want Harry to be anywhere but between his legs right now. He nodded, breath coming hot and harsh around the knife, and Harry smirked at him. 

"Luckily for you, I have no desire to be caught _in flagrante_." Harry started working his fingers again, slow deep toe-curling pushes ratcheting up sensation, almost as relentlessly pleasurable as a mouth sucking at his cock. "When I fuck you, I want to be able to take my time."

Oh God.

"I want to have you on your back... On your hands and knees... Over my desk with your hands tied behind your back..."

God, God, God—

"Bent over and spreading your legs for me, taking it just like this, unable to touch yourself, arching your back as I fuck you—"

Harry. _Harry_.

"And when you come on my cock," Harry purred, stabbing his fingers in hard and _pressing_ , "it’s going to make _this_ feel completely inconsequential," and then he was ducking and taking the head of Eggsy’s cock into his mouth, and Eggsy cried out around the knife-handle, a ragged wordless shout as he started - just like that, just fucking like _that_ \- to come. He almost couldn’t believe it was happening, his cock pulsing and jerking into the liquid heat of Harry’s mouth, Harry’s fingers crooking filthy-deep and rocking inside him, pleasure spasming through him again and again.

Harry sucked slow and deliberate, swallowing around him, his mouth warm and soft and maybe the best fucking thing Eggsy had ever felt; Eggsy heard a clatter as the knife tumbled down by his shoulder, and realised his mouth was open around a low helpless wavering groan. He tried to shut up, and Harry chose that moment to ease his fingers out and give Eggsy’s cock a final lewd suck, drawing his foreskin back over the head of his cock with a dirty little flick of his tongue—

" _Fuck_ ," Eggsy bit off, and started laughing. It wasn’t even funny, it was just… his body was just… wrung _out_ , full of chaotic energy, wired and elated and fucking exhausted, all at once.

Harry sat back on his heels, and Eggsy looked up in time to see Harry glancing around surreptitiously and wiping his own shiny lower lip with one careful knuckle, like a diner at the end of an expensive meal. It was a disconcertingly refined gesture for such an obscene situation, and Eggsy laughed harder; Harry looked back down at him and raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. 

"Now it really is time I untied you," he said. "Before you become completely hysterical."

And that was Eggsy’s cue to calm the fuck down, but Harry’s benign expression only succeeded in making him laugh harder, quaking against his bonds, not even sure what was funny anymore but completely unable to stop. 

"Perhaps I spoke too soon," Harry said, amused fondness in his voice, as Eggsy gasped for breath and twisted against the ropes, eyes burning, stomach starting to ache—and then Harry was leaning down and kissing him, lips warm and firm and fucking _wonderful_ , and the laughter dried up at once, Eggsy’s mouth opening and softening against the deliberate slick pressure of Harry’s tongue. The chaotic energy drained out of him in favour of a sublime melting sensation, as he sucked the salty taste of his come off Harry’s tongue, breathed him in, lost himself all over again. 

"Better," Harry murmured, an indistinct amount of time later, and Eggsy barely felt Harry’s hands moving but then - two quick jolts against each wrist - his own hands were free.

He took the opportunity to sink his fingers into Harry’s hair, anchoring him deeper into the kiss, and he felt Harry smile against his mouth. Indulging him. Fuck, yeah.

Harry’s hands slid back down his body, coaxing Eggsy to lift his hips, and with a couple more deft movements Eggsy’s jeans were back up around his waist and Harry was fastening them closed again. 

"Almost decent," Harry whispered, tucking his belt back into place, and sat back at last, pulling free of Eggsy’s grasp; Eggsy followed him - hands closing in the front of Harry’s shirt instead, the jolt of sitting up making his head swim - and tugged Harry towards him again. 

To his relief Harry leaned back in readily enough, letting Eggsy kiss him as deep as he wanted, learning Harry’s mouth and stroking those broad shoulders, coiling his arms around Harry’s neck. It went on for long, glorious seconds, lazy slow strokes of tongues - and then Harry was breaking up the kiss into a few softer, briefer presses of lips, before drawing back with a new firm look in his eyes.

Firm but kind of rueful, in Eggsy’s opinion, which was probably the best he could hope for right now.

"The others will be here imminently," Harry said, his voice husky but with an urgent note to it, and then, when Eggsy just shrugged a bit at that, he huffed a laugh. "Of course. Let me put it another way: for the next part of the training, candidates spend twenty-four hours with their mentors in preparation for the final task, unless there is a good reason not to."

 _Now you’re talking._ Eggsy tilted his head, feeling a wary smile creep across his mouth. "Are you tellin’ me this—" he indicated between the two of them "—is a good reason not to?"

Harry’s eyes flashed. "Not in my opinion," he said, and the velvety darkness in his voice reminded Eggsy that only one of them had actually got off this evening. So far. "But Merlin doesn’t take too kindly to the schedule being disrupted, and if he thought I was leading you into bad habits…"

"‘Nuff said." Eggsy jumped to his feet, then smirked down at Harry and offered his hand. 

Harry looked at it like Eggsy was trying to give him a shit bouquet, then rose to his feet, all haughty dignity - an effect just slightly spoiled by the very visible line of his cock distending the front of his trousers. Eggsy ogled him - and it - shamelessly, then flashed an unrepentant grin when Harry rolled his eyes and adjusted himself, successfully concealing the bulge from all but the most suspicious eye. 

"Shame," Eggsy said, and Harry snorted. 

"I’ve created a monster."

Eggsy opened his mouth in fake outrage. "Fuck off! Weren’t my idea," he retorted - then thought about it for a moment and let his grin broaden into a leer, gave Harry a slow dirty once-over making sure to undress ever fine fucking inch of him with his eyes, "but like… yeah, I reckon you have."

Colour swept briefly over Harry’s cheeks, and the step he took towards Eggsy looked almost involuntary. 

The next step - closing the distance between them - was definitely on purpose. 

Eggsy continued to leer at him, feeling safe within his buffer of post-coital confidence. "Hullo," he said, even as he took in Harry’s narrowed eyes and parted lips, the tension radiating off him. 

Harry brushed Eggsy’s lower lip with the pad of his thumb. "I want to take you home with me."

Eggsy’s mouth went dry, and his lip tingled. "Yeah," he said, abruptly aware on a primal level that Harry was setting out the sort of non-questions where it was very important that Eggsy give the right response. "Yeah, I—want that too."

"You’ve done this before."

"No."

"But you’ve thought about it."

Heat streaked across Eggsy’s face. "Y-yeah," he said, desperate to look away but resisting, keeping Harry’s gaze, and he knew that was the right answer by the look in Harry’s eyes, by the way Harry’s mouth softened and curved for a fraction of a second before stilling again. 

Then Harry’s eyes narrowed.

Eggsy held his breath for whatever was coming next.

" _You will do as you’re told?_ " Harry said, his voice sinking back into a shivery-sweet danger-rich place, and Eggsy felt the flood-gates open on his own body’s responses: he felt hot and horny and delirious all at once, like he was starved for touch; craving.

He wet his lips, swallowed, nodded. "Whatever you say."

"Good," Harry said quickly, his voice dropping to a pleased murmur. He gestured for Eggsy to precede him towards a door Eggsy hadn’t noticed before. "Then I think we could have something quite promising, here." 

And that, Eggsy thought, as he hurried along in the direction Harry had indicated, actually _was_ the understatement of a fucking lifetime.


End file.
